


Merry Christmas, Aaron

by melstarxx



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Absent Parents, Abusive Relationships, Action/Adventure, Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Christmas, Con Artists, Crime Fighting, Crimes & Criminals, Escape, Father Figure Jason Gideon, Father Figures, France (Country), Gunshot Wounds, Human Trafficking, LGBTQ Character, Love, Mental Breakdown, Money, Multi, New York City, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Prison, Protective Aaron Hotchner, Protective BAU Team (Criminal Minds), Protective Derek Morgan, Serial Killers, Starvation, The BAU Team as Family (Criminal Minds), Tricksters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28703688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melstarxx/pseuds/melstarxx
Summary: Pre Season 1The team thinks it's just a normal case; when a young man brings them into a full on chase of cat and mouse. His charming smile and persuasive talking tricks many, even those on the team. Over time, Aaron Hotchner is starting to get frustrated. Somehow Hotch always meets this man on a certain day...Christmas.
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue

(This story was somewhat inspired by Frank Abagnale Jr’s book/the movie “Catch Me If You Can” starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Tom Hanks)

Prologue

The young man sat rigid and upright, cuffed to the grey table. Cold metal dug into his wrists, making red marks on his skin. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days; there were dark bags under his bloodshot eyes and his brown hair was a tuffled mess. His posture made him similar to a stumped schoolboy in the principal’s office. Suddenly, the heavy door opened with a loud clang, and two men in suits marched in.  
“Hello, Rowan.” The taller one greeted. He had on a navy blue tie and a very solemn expression.  
“Am I in trouble, sir?” Rowan asked nervously, and he shifted in his seat. The clinks of the handcuffs echoed around the room. It was clear these two had met before.  
“No, you’re not.” The man replied calmly, and sat down.  
The shorter man, who was balding and older than the first, put on a pair of reading glasses and opened a manilla folder, furrowing his brow. Rowan glanced at him anxiously.  
“What are you doing here, sir?” Rowan asked politely, addressing the first man again.  
The man straightened, and looked at his partner. The partner nodded importantly.  
“Do the guards here give you much trouble, Rowan?” He asked.  
Rowan didn’t answer. Both men looked troubled at his silence.  
“Do they?” The man pushed the subject.  
“Well, they’re prison guards. They have to, don’t they?” Rowan muttered. “I wouldn’t say I’m obedient...”  
“Quite the opposite. No foul behavior reports about you.” The older man said, looking into the folder.  
“Oh.” Rowan said feebly.  
“A lot of infirmary visits, however. Broken arm, twisted ankle, bruising, cuts...”  
The first man looked worriedly at Rowan.  
“I’m going to ask you again, Rowan. Do they give you trouble?”  
“Somewhat.” Rowan desperately tried to change the subject. “What are you doing here, sir?”  
Aaron Hotchner stared at the young prisoner with pursed lips, and looked at the cuffs on his hands. 

“Getting you out of this hellhole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys it's mel :) this is my first Ao3 work, hope you enjoy this story o7


	2. Hawkeye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team goes to Boston, MA ready to tackle the case on hand. But when a mysterious name pops up, they realize it's going to be a lot harder than expected.

Chapter 1  
5 years ago

“And did you see how I dodged around and just whammed him right back?”  
Agent Derk Morgan was talking excitedly in the elevator about the case they were on a few weeks prior. The arrest of the unsub had been caught on security footage and released on the morning news.  
“Yes, Morgan.” His teammate, Agent Steven Collins groaned, having also watched it. “And how I was running like some, I don’t even remember how you said it-”  
“A hobbling penguin.” Morgan howled with laughter.  
The two young agents met the eyes of Aaron Hotchner and fell silent; he was staring at them.  
“You shouldn’t be laughing about the case, despite the victory we had.” He said seriously. Morgan and Collins nodded. As Hotch walked away, Morgan muttered,  
“Not a drop of humor in that guy, I tell ya.”  
Collins grunted in agreement.  
“He’s right, though.” Morgan and Collins looked up to the new voice. It was the team’s tech analyst, Arthur Brooks.  
Arthur was a middle aged man, with wire glasses and black hair. He was wearing a pink collared shirt and leaned on Morgan’s desk, holding a tray of three coffees.  
“Oh, our savior.” Collins said gratefully, referring to the coffee, and took a cup.  
“It was funny, Brooks, even you admitted it!” Morgan exclaimed, doing the same.  
“True.” The tech analyst said sheepishly, taking the last cup and dumping the tray in the trash. 

Jason Gideon appeared on the elevated landing and looked at the three agents in the bullpen.  
“New case.” He said shortly, and went to notify Hotch. 

The five agents gathered in a circle around the table and looked towards Hotch; he usually presented the cases.  
“Only one body? Why are we looking into it?” Morgan asked. The team stared at him.  
“That’s Senator James Wilson. He was murdered in Boston, Massachusettes.” Brooks said, with wide eyes.  
“Oh him. The rich guy, right?” Morgan asked. Silence from the team.  
“I don’t follow politics, arlight?!” Morgan said defensively, and everyone laughed, even Hotch.  
“Yes, Morgan, he’s the rich guy.” Hotch answered.  
“Media is going to especially be challenging this case, so, Arthur, I’m counting on you to notify us as soon as any news hits the Internet.” Gideon said.  
The tech analyst gave a quick thumbs up.  
“It’s way colder up there during December. Pack some coats and jackets. We leave in 20.” 

Boston, MA

Ring. Ring. Ring.  
“Aren’t you gonna pick that up?”  
“Nah, it’s probably Marilyn.” 

The blaring lights of the party shone on the young men’s faces as they sat at the bar. One was distinctly younger than the first.  
“Honestly, I don’t know why you avoid her, Rowan. Is she that bad?” The older one said, sipping his beer.  
“If you lived with her, you’d know.” Rowan replied. He didn’t have a drink in front of him, unlike most people there.  
“Well, you don’t have to now. You’re almost 18, you can leave soon.”  
“True.”  
The two sat in silence, watching the dancers in the center of the room. The music boomed in their ears. The lights switched from pink and red to neon green. Suddenly Rowan reached into his pocket.  
“Here.”  
Rowan handed his friend a huge wad of cash. He counted it and huge money signs appeared in his eyes.  
“Bro, there’s gotta be thousands here!” A wide grin came across his face. “How’d you know I was having money problems?”  
“I have my ways.”  
“And how’d you even get this money-?” He was flipping through the bills again, making a satisfying noise and eyeing the money with interest. “You don’t even have a job.”  
“Says who?” Rowan gave a charming smile.  
“Pfft. You don’t need a job, man. You’re a 17 year old in MIT. When are you graduating again?”  
“Pretty soon.”  
“Hm. And what are you gonna do once you get out?”  
“Get away as far from Marilyn and her crappy family as soon as possible.”  
“You really hate her, that much?”  
“Mhm.” 

On the Jet

The entire team except for Arthur (who stayed behind in Quantico mostly) trooped into the small jet, settling down.  
“Alright, let’s look at victimology. Wilson’s a wealthy, powerful figure. Maybe the unsub envies him?” Collins speculated.  
“The COD was a single gunshot wound to the head. Efficient.” Morgan said, looking at the crime scene photos.  
“Maybe a hitman? Someone like Wilson’s bound to have enemies.” Hotch added.  
“Brooks, you have anything?” Gideon asked the tech analyst, who’s face had just appeared on the laptop screen.  
“Yeah, um, he’s withdrawing thousands and thousands each month leading up to his death.” Brooks replied.  
“Maybe for his campaign?” Morgan said. “I know campaigning ain’t cheap.”  
“Yeah, but who needs $50,000 for one month of a campaign when you’re already a successful guy?”  
“Maybe he was having an affair.” Collins said.  
“It says here a young boy reported the murder to the police? Can we talk to him?” Gideon had put on his reading glasses.  
“Yeah see er, boss, the problem is, the police can’t find him anymore. He’s vanished.” Arthur said with a grimace.  
“That’s not good...he may even be the unsub.” Morgan replied anxiously.  
“Did the police get a name?” Gideon asked.  
“Clint Barton.”  
“Alright. Can you try to track him?”  
“The PD wasn’t very good at getting his personal info. They just asked for a recount of the murder. Then he was on his way.”  
“What does that matter in tracking him?”  
Brooks was silent.  
“Boss, there must be thousands of Clint Bartons in Boston.”  
“Oh, okay.”  
“Brooks out.” And the video tab closed.  
“Huh, I always thought he could track anybody, anywhere.” Gideon said with a confused look. Everyone on the jet chuckled. 

Boston PD  
1:00 pm

“Thanks for coming on such short notice. I’m Detective Hernandez, leading on this case.” The detective welcomed the BAU team into the room.  
“Any luck on finding Clint Barton?” Hotch asked as they set down their bags and files.  
“No, unfortunately. I really apologize for the officers’ behavior, you know, letting him go. He might have been the killer, right? I learned from one of your seminars that killers like to inject themselves into the investigation.”  
“It’s possible.” Collins said, pinning the crime scene photos up on the board.  
“Morgan and I will go to the crime scene. Collins, interview the Senator’s families. Hotch, you stay here and work with the police. Meet back in about an hour and a half.” Gideon said directly, took his jacket, and left the station. Detective Hernandez stared at his retreating figure.  
“I’m SSA Hotchner, these are SA’s Morgan and Collins, and the man who sometimes forgets his manners is SSA Gideon.” Hotch said.  
“Ah. Well, nice to meet all of you.” The detective replied, smiling.

Crime scene: James Wilson residence  
1:10 pm

James Wilson was a rich and powerful man, so no doubt was his house huge. The mansion was made of white stone, with a grey tile roof. Many marble fountains sprouted in the front courtyard, with lots of colorful flowers and shrubs. The sides of the house were lined with rose bushes, and an iron gate marked the entrance. Large masses of reporters lined the gate, pushing to get through. Morgan groaned.  
“Come on, Gideon, we can’t investigate a crime scene like this!”  
“Just keep your head down. Say no comment to everything they ask. Push through.” His boss replied calmly, and parked the SUV on the curb.  
The second the two agents got out of the SUV the reporters clammered over to them, shouting questions.  
“Is there a suspect?”  
“What do you think happened here?”  
“Are you from the FBI?”  
“Does the FBI have a statement?”  
“Who do you think did this?”

Morgan did what Gideon said to do; he kept his head down and said “No comment.” to every question. Still, it was hard. It was difficult to resist the urge to punch every one of those pesky reporters.  
“Jesus.” Morgan sighed as he and Gideon showed their credentials at the gate and ducked under the yellow crime scene tape. The two made their way to the large double doors and went in.  
The entrance room of the mansion was colossal; the ceiling looked a million feet high, with a shining chandelier hanging down. 5 foot tall stained glass windows reflected orange, blue, and purple light down on the marble floor. A black tarp covered a long lump on the floor; it was James Wilson’s body. 

Gideon walked confidently around the room and looked at Morgan.  
“Morgan. I’m the unsub. How did I do it?”  
Morgan surveyed the massive room and went to the door.  
“They said no forced entry was made. So, you either coaxed your way in, or...you put a gun to his head and he lets you inside.” He raised his hand, pretending to hold a gun.  
Gideon watched as Morgan strode across from the door to the winding stairway. The dark skinned man took a while to think before speaking.  
“You wouldn’t want to cause any screaming… and you couldn’t have sneaked past the security at the gate, unless the guards knew you were.” He said, referring to the stone faced guards posted outside to protect the senator. “  
And if you knew Wilson, no need for a gun.” Morgan put his hand down. “Wilson would invite you in.” He said.  
“So I’m someone he knows.” Gideon said in a satisfied manner.  
“A regular friend, I think. He was killed on a Sunday. He wouldn’t be meeting anything business related on a weekend, right?”  
“That narrows things down.” Gideon replied, nodding.  
“Sure but, Gideon, James Wilson must have known tons of people. How the heck are we gonna interview them all in time?”  
“As you said. The unsub is a regular friend. A close one. We just need to interview his family and see if he knew any Clint Bartons.”

Boston PD  
1:36 pm

“Clint Barton? No, I don’t think James knew any Clint Bartons.” The blonde woman said tearfully, holding a tissue. Her name was Anna Wilson, James’ sister.  
“Are you absolutely sure?” Agent Collins asked.  
“Yes.” She said firmly, and blew her nose. “Why, is that the man who killed him?”  
“He’s a viable suspect, but we don’t know for sure.” 

Family member after family member denied the late senator had known a Clint Barton, and Collins was beginning to lose hope. After James Wilson’s sobbing mother had been interviewed, he left the interview room to report to Hotch.  
“They all say he never knew a Clint Barton.” Collins said grimly.  
“The police officer who took Clint Barton’s report says he didn’t get a good look at him, and forgot what he looked like.” Hotch replied. Collins groaned.  
“How could he forget?”  
“I dunno, apparently it’s his first week on the job. But he says  
a white male with brown hair, 20s to 30s.”  
“Like that’s any help.” 

Blue Lamb Cafe  
2:00 pm

Morgan and Gideon sat at a table going over the list of all known Clint Bartons in Boston. A young waiter came to their table with a coffee pot and began pouring the dark liquid in the cups.  
“Hawkeye, huh?”  
“What?” Gideon looked up to the waiter. He looked about 16.  
“Hawkeye? Clint Barton.”  
“What’s that?” Morgan said. The waiter grinned.  
“It’s one of Marvel’s comic book characters. He’s pretty cool, if you ask me. I mean, no superpowers, but he’s the underdog on the team. Kinda makes you root for him.”  
Gideon looked at Morgan with a confused look.  
“Superhero, huh?” Morgan asked the waiter. He nodded.  
“And only kids would know that right?”  
“I suppose. Adults don’t read comic books much.”  
“Kids. Thanks, my man.” Morgan handed him a 5 dollar bill for the tip. The waiter excitedly took the tip, thanked him, and left.

“Hawkeye! I should have known…” Morgan said, crumpling up the list of Clint Bartons in Boston, Massachusetts.  
“Our unsub’s a kid?” Gideon still had the confused look on his face.  
“I don’t know politics but I don’t think a Senator would let just any kid into their house on a Sunday.” Morgan replied.  
“So this Clint Barton, isn’t our unsub. What does Hawkeye even look like?”  
“Dunno. We can ask Brooks back at the station.” 

Boston PD  
2:28 pm

“Hawkeye? Damn! I got kids, I should have known.” Brooks’ exasperated face appeared on the video tab.  
“Can we get a picture?”  
“Yeah, sure, here.” Brooks showed a photo.  
A muscular blonde man with a bow and arrow and some weird purple contraptions around his eyes shown on the computer screen.  
“He doesn’t have superpowers.” Brooks said. From his distant look the team could tell he was reading an article on the screen.  
“Well I’m pretty confident he isn’t our unsub. He probably just got scared and went into hiding.” Collins replied.  
“Either way, we need to track him down. He’s our best chance of identifying the unsub. And I’m sure there’s a reason for not using his real name.” Hotch said seriously. “Christmas is coming soon, and I don't know about you all but I don’t want to be stuck here for the holidays.”

“Yeah, Haley would kill you.” Morgan teased.  
“So let’s get to work.” Hotch said, ignoring Morgan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't expect future updates to be this quick ^^; I just had most of Chapter 1 (2 in this case) already written. Hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Merry Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch and the team get closer to the mysterious Clint Barton.

NOTE: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CRIMINAL MINDS CHARACTERS (I don’t think I’ve said that before ^^;)

Boston Police Station  
December 25th  
7:00 am

“You’re here early.” Gideon walked in the conference room, coffee in hand. Hotch was already there, examining the board and the files.  
“Figured a quiet workplace would be better. Besides, it’s Christmas. I want to solve this and get home as soon as possible.” He replied.  
“I still don’t get it. Why would the kid run?” Gideon said, pointing to the slip of paper taped on the board. It read, “Clint Barton. Mystery.”  
“Maybe he thought he’d get in trouble.” Hotch shrugged. “Either way, we need to find him.”  
“Hey, agents?”  
Detective Hernandez was at the door. He wore a grim face.  
“Massachusetts Governor Felowski was just killed. Witnesses say they remember a kid running away from the crime scene. You think Clint Barton is just an innocent bystander now?” 

Crime scene: Felowski residence  
7:15 am

“Another gunshot to the head.” Morgan looked over the body sadly.  
“This kid is efficient.” Collins replied. “Why do you think he’s doing it? Political stance?”  
“No, Wilson was a Republican, Felowski was a Democrat.”  
“Maybe he disagreed with both.”  
“I dunno, this kid is wacko. I’m gonna call Brooks.” Morgan pulled out his phone and dialed Brooks’ number. 

“I thought you guys forgot about me.” Brooks’ voice came through the phone as Morgan smiled.  
“Never, Sir. Arthur.”  
“I told you to stop calling me that.”  
Morgan laughed a little before getting down to business.  
“We need everything you have on Governor Felowski.” He said.  
“Alright. Give me a few seconds. Here. Okay, Kevin A.  
Felowski...oh.”  
“What is it?”  
“Well, Felowski withdrew a lot of money…”  
“How much?”  
“Hundreds of thousands. You think it’s the unsub’s doing? Clint  
Barton?”  
“So he’s robbing them first, then killing them? Maybe this isn’t politically motivated like Collins said it was.”  
“I’m not a profiler,” Brooks said. “But to me, Clint Barton  
seems to only be in it for the money.”  
“I agree. Bye, talk to you later.” Morgan hung up and went to tell Hotch.”

Boston, MA  
7:30 am

“Where the hell have you been, man? I need it now or Sarah’s gonna kill me!”  
“Nice choice of words.” The young man said, panting. He looked out of breath.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Didn’t you kill Felowski back there? And Wilson?” The man looked confused now, setting his backpack down.  
“What, no! I’m not a killer!”  
“Then why carry the three guns around, hm?”  
The taller man, who was black, grabbed the young one by his neck and frowned.  
“Listen kid, all you have to do is get the money. That’s all I’m asking. Doesn’t say anywhere in your contract that you get to ask questions.”  
“But she stays safe, right?” The young man looked most definitely scared now. The black man scoffed.  
“Sure.” He smiled. “She stays safe. As long as you get the money.”  
“Fine. Here.” The young man turned the backpack upside down, and a river of cash flowed out. The other one smiled.  
“Nice job, Rowan.” He flung a few stack of bills towards him. “There’s your share.”  
“Do you know who’s killing my victims?” Rowan asked, picking himself up and pocketing the cash.  
“Nope.”  
“Yes you do.”  
The black man licked his lips and looked at Rowan in silence. After a few seconds, Rowan sighed.  
“No. He has to stop. You have to stop him.”  
“You want me to get killed?”  
“He has to turn himself in. The feds are everywhere!” Rowan exclaimed, pointing out the door. Soon he was pinned up against the wall.  
“Just. Get. The. Money.” The other man hissed. “What Alexei does after you get the money is none of your business.”  
He loosened his grip a little but quickly regained it.  
“And if you even help the feds a little, well, then I’m afraid Alexei may have to get rid of you too.”  
Rowan scoffed.  
“If I wanted to help the feds, I wouldn’t be able to. They’re on my tail, Jackson. They think I’m the killer.”  
“Well, good you’re skilled at hiding your identity, then.”  
Rowan headed towards the door, but paused before pushing down the handle. 

“Let me speak with her.” 

Boston PD  
10:00 am

“Yes, I understand, sir.”  
Gideon hung up and went back to the team. Everyone was looking solemn. Morgan sat in an office chair, arms crossed. Collins slumped on the table nearby. Hotch wore an even grimmer expression than usual.  
“That was the Director. He says the lawyers of Wilson and Felowski have stormed the Bureau Headquarters.”  
“Of course.” Morgan replied, sighing.  
“The Director’s agitated. He wants the case solved before New Year’s.”  
“Jesus.” Collins started playing with a pencil. “We don’t even know where this Clint Barton is.”  
“Well based on this Unsub’s pattern, he should kill soon.” Hotch said.  
“Poor Brooks. Typing day and night trying to find Clint Barton.” Morgan leaned back into his chair.  
“Let’s check missing kids reports again.” Gideon said, standing up.  
“Gideon, we have, about a dozen times. Hotch and I have gone as far as Maine to try and find this kid. You know, maybe he’s over 18. Makes him harder to trace. He’s smart.” Collins said.  
The team sat in the conference room, sipping coffee. They sat slumped over like defeated soldiers. 

10:40 am

Everyone jumped as the phone rang in the room. Morgan reached to pick it up.  
“Yeah, what’s up, Brooks?”  
“Yeah so Gideon told me to keep checking missing persons reports for any new ones. This is probably a stretch but...a Marilyn Juress from New York just reported her 18 year old adopted son Rowan missing. A Rowan Juress just checked into Fairview Hotel which isn’t far from the crime scenes-”  
“Going!” Hotch yelled and raced out the door.  
“I’m guessing he doesn’t want to see his photo then.” Brooks said. 

Hotch raced into the lobby of Fairview Hotel and showed his badge to the receptionist.  
“I need to know which room Rowan Juress is staying in.” He ordered.  
“It’s 310, sir. Is Rowan in trouble? He’s such a sweet boy-”  
Hotch didn’t stop to address her concern and dashed up the stairs. He ran until he reached the third floor and stopped in front of Room 310.He rapidly knocked and drew his weapon.  
“Rowan Juress, FBI! Open this door!”  
No answer.  
“I’m giving you til the count of three!”  
Nothing.  
“One! Two!”  
Hotch could hear the toilet flush.  
“Three!”  
Hotch kicked the door open much like what Morgan would do. He  
pointed his gun towards the bathroom door. The doorknob wiggled a bit before clicking.  
Out stepped a young man. He had dark brown curly hair and a tall stature. He was really good looking and wore a handsome suit.  
“Rowan Juress, FBI! Hands on your head!”  
“FBI? Hm...what department?”  
“Hands on your head!”  
“Can you put that gun away? It makes me uncomfy.”  
“I’m not going to ask you again.”  
The man laughed. “Relax, we got him. Secret Service.”  
Hotch lowered his gun. “What? Secret Service?”  
The man walked over to a small coffee table with tons of papers  
checks. He laughed again at Hotch’s dumbstruck face.  
“It’s alright. You can catch the next bad guy.”  
“Credentials.” Hotch said firmly.  
“What?”  
“Let me see your credentials.”  
“Sure. Hah, in fact, take my whole wallet.” The man handed him a  
black leather wallet. Hotch didn’t open it.  
“I’m Agent Steve Rogers.” The man introduced himself. “You can interview him if you want, let me just get this evidence downstairs.” The man said helpfully and bagged the checks.  
“He’s forging checks?” Hotch asked, looking at them. The man  
looked confused.  
“You sure you’re FBI? I thought you’d know everything about this dude.”  
“Of course I am. I’m from the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”  
“Ah. So you’re one of those profilers.” The young man still didn’t look convinced. It made Hotch irritated.  
“If you don’t believe me, here’s my credentials.” He showed the young man his badge.  
The young man smiled and finally looked convinced now. He spotted Hotch’s engagement ring.  
“Who’s the lucky woman?” He asked casually. Hotch relaxed at this and smiled.  
“Her name’s Haley. We just got engaged.”  
“That’s sweet, congratulations.”  
“What about you, any girl you’re dating?”  
The man took a while before answering. “Well, women...they’re not my type.” He smiled a little.  
“Ah.” Hotch replied.  
Steve Rogers closed the zip bags and headed towards the door. 

“Merry Christmas, Aaron.”  
“Merry Christmas.” 

Boston PD Station  
11:06 pm

“Secret Service? We came all this way, only for the Secret Service to catch him? Damn!” Morgan exclaimed his frustration. The entire rest of the team agreed. They were all extremely disappointed at Hotch’s report.  
“What did he say his name was? I want to speak with him.” Gideon said.  
“Steve Rogers.” Hotch replied.  
Silence from the team. Morgan and Collins exchanged glances.  
“Steve Rogers, Hotch? You sure?” Collins asked.  
“Yes.” Hotch started to get uneasy now.  
“Steve Rogers. Like, Captain America, Steve Rogers?”  
Hotch stopped cold. 

“Fuck.”

“Hey, hey, calm down, Hotch.” Morgan said.  
Hotch pulled the black wallet out of his pocket; the young man hadn’t even paused to take it back. He started flipping through it frantically. Coupons and papers flew out of their pockets, littering the carpeted floor. No credentials.  
“Call Brooks.”  
“Hotch you should really-”  
“Call Brooks!”  
Collins dialed Brooks’ number.  
“What info can I serve for you all ton-”  
“Rowan Juress! Let me see his photo!” Hotch barked out the order. Brooks didn’t stop to question Hotch’s demeanor. He pulled up the photo and shared it on the laptop screen.  
“GODDAMMIT!” Hotch threw the wallet to the ground. He stood there, panting, and stared at Rowan’s photo. It was the young man, perhaps a few years younger, but it was definitely him. Perfectly straight white teeth, sparkling blue eyes, and messy brown hair.  
“We need his record, Brooks.” Gideon said.  
“Right-o, Captain.”  
“Aaron Hotchner? There’s something for you.” Detective Hernandez peeked his head in the room. He handed Hotch a slip of paper with a ribbon on it.  
Hotch untied the ribbon and unfolded the paper. He sighed.  
“What is it?” Morgan took the paper from Hotch. “Damn.” 

Hope you and Haley have a nice Christmas, Aaron :)  
~ RJ  
“He’s taunting us and I don’t like it.” Collins said. Gideon sat down and crossed his arms.  
“The Director’s going to need a report.” He said, glancing up at Hotch.  
“I let him get away, I’m sorry.” Hotch apologized.  
“Hey, it happens. He was charming, that’s what all con-artists are like. Did he reveal anything about himself?” Gideon asked.  
“He’s not only stealing money from rich politicians and killing them, he’s forging checks too. Bank fraud. And he’s gay.” Hotch reported.  
“This is what I find interesting. If he’s really a cold blooded killer, why didn’t he just shoot Hotch? I mean, it’s not like he had backup.” Morgan added. Hotch nervously scratched his neck.  
He was so eager in catching Rowan Juress, he raced in without any backup agents. It was stupid and foolish, but he just wanted to get home to Haley as soon as possible.  
“Instead he went into all the trouble to trick Hotch and show his face. He must know we’re onto him now.” 

Boston, MA

“Alexei wants to see you.”  
A young girl, no older than 16, stood by the double doors as Rowan walked in.  
“What for?” He asked.  
She shrugged and opened the door to let him in.  
“Wait-” He paused before stepping inside.  
She looked at him intensely.  
“Holly, you need to get out.” He said, moving closer to her.  
“You know I can’t.” She replied, smiling. “You should really get  
going, Alexei didn’t seem very happy.” She gestured towards the door again.  
“I’ll figure out a plan, I promise.” Rowan assured her, and walked in.  
Then a gunshot rang out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Mel here :) I just noticed that Haley's maiden name was Brooks and I named a character that :') I hope it doesn't cause any confusion! They're not related in any way...just a coincidence I guess. Its too late to change it now.


	4. The Hospital Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The suspect is apprehended and Gideon interviews him in a hospital room.

Boston PD  
December 28th  
3:00 pm

The team had spent the entire day reading Rowan Juress’ file. They all really wanted to stop this once and for all, before Juress could kill anymore politicians.   
“Guys, if Rowan isn’t our unsub, he sure has the makings of one.” Collins said, reading over the records.   
“Sickly mother, dad walked out on them when he was 4, his mom married another guy but he got stabbed to death, right in front of him. He literally saw his stepdad die…”  
Silence followed Collins’ words. It was rare when the entire team sympathized with the criminals they hunted. But Rowan was so young, and his early life was already so tragic, they couldn’t help but feel empathy towards him. Morgan couldn’t stand the silence and continued where Collins left off.   
“Before his stepdad died, he filed multiple accounts of sexual assault on Rowan, and afterwards his mother was incapable of paying the medical bills so he was put into foster care. Ran away from a foster home and had no record until he was 17 and got accepted into MIT. Damn, he’s smart.”  
“That’s what I don’t understand.” Gideon replied. He had been quiet all day.   
“What do you mean?” Brook asked. He was video conferencing with them.   
“Yes, his life is tragic.” Gideon said. “But he’s up for success. He’s a genius, he’s about to graduate from MIT. He had a scholarship. His name is on the hiring list for so many big companies. Why kill? He’s got no criminal record, and nothing to suggest a killer behavior.”   
“Uh, sir.” Brooks said.  
“What?”  
“He has a sealed juvenile record.”  
“Unseal it then.”   
“But-”  
“Unseal it, Arthur.” Collins said.   
“Fine. Give me a few minutes.” 

“Agents?” Detective Hernandez walked in the room.   
“Yes?” Gideon asked. Morgan stood up; he had been restless sitting down and reading the entire day.   
“There’s been reports of gunshots in the downtown part of Boston.”  
“Is it Rowan shooting again?” Collins asked. The detective looked uneasy.   
“Well-you see...Rowan was the victim.”   
“What?!” Morgan gave bewildered looks to Hotch and Gideon, awaiting orders.   
“So he’s dead?” Hotch asked.   
“No, he was shot in the shoulder.” Hernandez answered.   
“Take us to him.” Gideon grabbed his jacket and the entire team followed Detective Hernandez out of the station. 

“Can’t you take these off me, oldie?” The patient grumbled as the handcuffs clinked on the metal bars of the hospital bed.   
“No. And what did you just call me?” The policeman asked impatiently.  
“An oldie.” The patient smiled. The policeman was caught off guard a bit. That smile was so perfect for someone who was supposedly so troubled.   
“FBI agents will be with you shortly. There are hidden security cameras, so don’t do anything stupid.” The policeman said, and closed the door. 

Rowan sighed and leaned back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. He immediately identified the hidden security cameras and grinned.   
“Hidden, my ass.” He said to himself and relaxed. 

The door opened and a middle aged man stepped in. He was wearing a flannel jacket, jeans, and sneakers. Rowan glared at him.   
Gideon’s first notice was at how beautiful he was. His blue eyes looked like gleaming sapphires. If looken at closely, they were different shades of blue. His hair was now blonde instead of the light brown seen in his record photos.   
“I’m SSA Jason Gideon, from the BAU.” He said and sat down on one of the chairs beside the hospital bed. Rowan merely just stared at him.   
“As soon as you’re well enough, you’ll be transported to prison. I advise you to tell me everything now, I only want to help you.”  
Rowan smiled again. Gideon realized. This was his greatest weapon. Charming his victims, just like Ted Bundy.   
“And what should I do to repay you, Jason? Surely you wouldn’t help me for free? Unless you’re that kind of a man.”   
“I do not expect anything in return.” Gideon replied. This was going to be an interesting interview.   
“That’s funny. Everyone who gave me something always wanted something in return.” Rowan said, toying with the handcuffs.   
“Like what?” Gideon asked.   
“Anything they wanted. Most of the time it was sex.” Rowan smiled a little and shrugged.   
It took Gideon a while before answering. 

The rest of the team was cooped up in the security office of the hospital, gathered around the tiny computer, earpieces pressed into their ears, catching on every word.   
“Sex?” Morgan said, clearly disgusted.   
“Nobody deserves that, especially at his age.” Hotch said sympathetically. Collins straightened at this.  
“Still, he’s a killer! Hell, I say he deserves it.” Collins crossed his arms. “Oof!” Morgan had punched him in the cheek.   
“What are you saying, man? That this kid deserves to-to be touched and-and-”  
“Cut it out, you two. Gideon’s speaking again.” Hotch said sternly. He gave Morgan a “we’ll-talk-about-this-later” look.

“I’m sorry.” Gideon said kindly.   
“That’s what everyone says.” Rowan replied, turning to look directly at the camera.   
“I thought you said these cameras were hidden.” Collins said to Hotch.   
“They are.” Hotch answered, analyzing Rowan’s expression.   
It was cool and relaxed. Casual, even. Gideon tried to change the subject.   
“You dyed your hair.” He pointed out, looking at his platinum blonde hair.   
“Yup.” His face remained neutral.   
“Any particular reason? Didn’t want to get caught?”   
“I didn’t choose to dye it. Dyeing makes my hair all dry and starchy.” He gave his blonde curls a look of disgust.   
“Then who did?”   
“Well it all depends on the person. Some people like blondes, others like auburns, everyone has their preferences. Blondes are in high demand though.” 

Gideon was at loss for words.

“You’re slow, aren’t you, oldie?” Rowan rolled his eyes and the two were silent.   
“How’s your wife?” Rowan asked, breaking the tension. Before Gideon was able to reply, hohwever, Rowan said, “Oh, but you wouldn’t know. You’re divorced, right?”   
Gideon remained silent.   
Suddenly, Rowan jumped and looked to his side, examining the IV bags.   
“You okay?” Gideon asked, clearly worried. Rowan closed his eyes.   
“Of course not, dumbass. Did the nurse put OxyContin in this?”   
It didn’t take Gideon long to figure out what the young man meant.   
“You’re addicted?”  
Rowan sighed and looked over at Gideon, giving him full eye contact.  
“I was.” He gave one of his perfect smiles.   
“I’ll go get the nurse for you.” Gideon offered and left the room. 

“Jesus. This kid is giving me the chills.” Collins said, pushing away from the computer screen. Rowan had started looking straight at the camera again.  
Morgan didn’t answer and leaned back on the wall, hands in his pockets. He was looking more sullen and serious than usual.   
Gideon had just entered the room and sat down, sighing, and looked at the computer. Rowan’s gaze was intensely focused on the camera.   
“He’s an unusual kid.” Gideon mused.   
“I wanna go in there.” Collins said, standing up.   
“Any particular reason?” Hotch asked pointedly, remembering Collins’ previous behavior about this young unsub.   
“Yeah. Wanna get him talking. I hated watching him smooth talk Gideon.” Collins marched out the door. 

Collins entered the hospital room and stopped abruptly at the door. The security camera wasn’t very clear and Rowan’s face came up fuzzy on the feed. But here, he saw it up close. Collins now understood how Rowan could have charmed his victims.   
“I’m Special Agent Steven Collins.” He said, closing the door and sitting down.   
“I’m not like my boss.” Collins continued, getting down to business.   
“Pfft.”   
“Why’d you do it?” Collins demanded.   
Rowan turned to look at him instead of the camera and crossed his arms. He gave an exasperated look and grinned.   
“You feds are all the same. Are you really a profiler or are you guys just guessing. Because half the time, you’re wrong. But you dumbasses are just too stubborn to admit it.”   
Collins stood up, pushing the chair back on the smooth hospital floor. He grabbed the blankets and thrust himself forward. 

Then, for a split second, Hotch saw something new come across Rowan’s face. Fear. Just for a second, there was a dash of fear in his eyes. But then, as quickly as it came, it was gone. Calm replaced it’s place and Rowan smiled again.   
“Listen here, you little piece of shit.” Collins spat. “We all know you killed those people. Why’d you do it? For money?!”   
“If I really was the killer why wouldn’t I have killed Aaron?” 

Everyone in the security room and Collins straightened at the mention of Hotch.   
“I mean, it was a stupid move. Not going in there without backup. But come on, I had a gun. I had a knife. Why wouldn’t I use them?”  
“I assume you like to play with your prey before you kill them. Just like how you played with Wilson and Felowski.” Collins said. He stared at Rowan’s bandages.   
“Who shot you?”   
“It doesn’t matter.”   
“It does.”   
“I’m a street kid. People get shot all the time.”   
“Who did it?”  
“I think I have a right to remain silent, yes?”   
Collins stood up and gave Rowan a look of pure hatred. He then left the room, slamming the door as he went. Rowan resumed his long calm stare at the camera. 

“I want to knock his stupid hair off his stupid head.” Collins grumbled, stumbling back into the security room.   
“I’m going back in.” Gideon said, standing up abruptly.   
“Hey-” before the team could object, Gideon was gone. 

“Oh hey, Jason.” Rowan greeted him warmly with a smile.   
“Hello.” Gideon returned the gesture and drew up a chair.   
“You know, you’re probably the first unsub I’ve interviewed that I just can’t seem to work out.”   
“What do you mean?”   
“Why would you do it?” Gideon asked, shaking his head. “You get nothing out of it except money and the thrill. But nothing in your history suggests a killer behavior.”   
Rowan’s smile faded.   
“I didn’t lay a fucking hand on Wilson or Felowski.” Rowan said desperately. “I-I don’t know who did it. They were just there and I panicked. So I ran. I-I think they had blonde hair. But I don’t know. I’m sorry. I took the money, okay? I-I forged checks, I did whatever money-related. I didn’t do shit with them after I had the money, I swear!” Tears ran down his beautiful face and his graceful demeanor dropped. 

“Well that was unexpected.” Morgan said, looking at the computer screen.   
“Hm.” Hotch was thinking hard. 

Gideon felt a wave of sympathy wash over him. He gave a comforting smile and handed him the tissue box nearby. Rowan gratefully took it.   
“Why didn’t you just come to us?” Gideon asked.   
“I told you. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I scammed those politicians. I didn’t want to get caught.”   
“Still beats being a murder suspect.” Gideon reasoned.   
“I suppose.”   
Gideon patted Rowan on the back. He noticed Rowan’s tension at the touch.   
“I’ll give you some space.” He closed the door gently and returned to the security room. 

“Jesus. We’ve been after the wrong guy?” Collins said in disbelief. He suddenly felt regretful for his attitude towards Rowan.   
“I don’t know.” Gideon sighed and sat down.   
Suddenly, the computer screen went black.   
“Huh?” Morgan said, confused. He tapped a few buttons but the screen remained black.   
“Maybe it ran out of battery.” Collins replied.   
“No it was at 80% when we got here.” Hotch countered.   
“It won’t turn on!” Morgan grumbled, giving the computer a violent shake. Detective Hernandez burst into the room. 

“Which one of you did it?! Which one of you left the door open?!” He exclaimed. The team was speechless. Detective Hernandez pointed an accusing finger at Gideon.   
“YOU! You were the last one in the room! You’re working with Juress, I know it!”   
“Think of who you’re accusing, man!” Morgan shouted back. “The Unit Chief of the BAU!”  
“We all saw Gideon close the door on his way out. Besides, there were guards posted outside, right?” Collins asked.   
“NO! They were killed!” Hernandez yelled.   
“What-?”   
Detective Hernandez slumped down into a chair, defeated. He looked up at Gideon.   
“Sorry, I stepped out of line. Christmas break is one of the few times I have undivided time with my family. And all this-”  
“Quite understandable.” Gideon said, accepting the apology. 

“I’m guessing this escape isn’t free.” Rowan said, panting. He and Jackson were running down the halls and burst out the back door of the hospital. The black man grinned.   
“Yeah, Alexei says I’m allowed to have lots of fun with you after this is done.”   
“Great.” Rowan grumbled.   
“You better leave Boston. Hell, get out of the state.” Jackson advised.   
“Will do. I’ve had enough of the feds in this place.” Rowan said.   
A dark van pulled up near the two men, a seal stamped on the side doors. Petrov Plumbing. Jackson opened one of the sliding doors and Rowan jumped in.   
“Have fun.” Jackson chirped and closed the door.   
Rowan gave a sigh of relief and leaned his head back on the van wall. 

“I really, really, fucked up this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooooo Mel here o7  
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I really liked writing Rowan's character :)


	5. Rowan Juress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team gets anxious as solving the case. They make headway in figuring out more of the mysterious teenager.

Boston PD  
December 29th  
10:00 am

“Who else here feels totally like shit and just wants to go home?” Collins asked loudly one day in the conference room.   
Derek, Hotch, and surprisingly Gideon, all raised their hands.   
“Haley’s going to literally kill me when I get back.” Hotch groaned, slamming the file he was reading shut.   
“I was supposed to have Christmas dinner with Sarah.” Gideon said.   
“And I was lookin’ forward to Chicago snow and Christmas with my sisters and my Ma.” Derek added.   
“And this was supposed to be my first Christmas with Elijah.” Collins replied, referring to his newborn son.  
“Just as we think we’re getting a break in the case, Rowan runs. Just great.” Morgan grumbled.   
“Still, we can’t stop. We’re not paid half enough for this job, but we have to do it.” Hotch answered, and opened the file again. He dialed Arthur’s number and the man’s happy voice chirped on the phone.   
“How are my lovely brave profilers doing today?” Nobody answered.   
“I’m assuming you’re all feeling like trash.” Arthur continued cheerfully. “How may I serve you today?” 

“I have an idea. This is a stretch, but, any gay bars in the area, Arthur?” Hotch asked.   
“Ooh, leave it up to Grumpy Grumpy Suit-Man to give the great ideas.” Arthur said, the sounds of the keys already tapping.   
“Excuse me?”   
“Grumpy Grumpy Suit-Man. Ooh. There is one gay bar near the crime scenes.” Arthur replied.   
“Let’s go check it out.” Morgan said, eagerly jumping to his feet. He was getting restless with all this sitting around. Gideon shot him down.   
“Wait. If this gay bar is one that Rowan goes to, think. We know Rowan couldn’t have done that escape on his own. He was staring up at the camera. It’s like he wanted us to know. He has a partner. Someone’s working with him. If we go into that bar announcing we’re federal agents, we may get screwed.”   
“Good thinking, Boss.” Arthur answered from the phone. “Because it seems a lot of gang leaders and big criminal-y type guys go there. May want some cover.”   
“Let’s get surveillance on that bar.” Hotch said.   
“I can just hack in the security cams if you want me to.” Arthur offered.   
“Of course, do that. And while you’re at it, did you unseal Rowan’s juvie record?”   
“About that.” Arthur answered uneasily. “Guys, I dunno about you, but this kid seems innocent to me.”   
“Go on.” Collins pushed. The entire team was on edge to hear what their tech analyst had to say.   
“We have no physical evidence Rowan did those kills. He may have just witnessed them. Second, why didn’t he kill Hotch? He instead charmed his way out. He didn't do that escape from the hospital solo. He was staring at the camera...just like Gideon said. He wanted us to know he has someone else with him. And, admit it, Boss, did he sound like some psychopathic killer when you interviewed him?”   
Everyone’s focus shifted to Gideon to see his answer.   
“No.” Gideon replied softly. “He didn’t at all.”   
“Exactly.” Arthur said, satisfied.   
“But, what’s his juvie record like?   
“Okay, so, the record’s mainly when he was 9. Got caught up in   
some New York City gangs.”   
“Gangs? When he was 9? Seriously?” Collins asked, in an almost amused tone.   
“Hey, sometimes kids gotta do what they gotta do to survive in the city.” Morgan replied, getting defensive. He couldn’t help but remember when, after his Pop died, he ran around with the gangs in his city too.   
“I think that gang was responsible for some fires and drug trafficking, so they got caught. Every member but Rowan got thrown into jail.”  
“Why not him?” Collins asked.   
“Seriously, dude? He was 9, that’s why.” Morgan grumbled.   
“Hey, what’s your problem?” Collins said. Morgan was about to reply with an angry retort, but Hotch beat him to it.   
“Out. Both of you. Out.”   
The two Special Agents trooped out like defeated schoolboys. Arthur resumed his review of the record.   
“Some guy wrote a letter of appeal to the judge, saying that jail would ruin Rowan’s life...very smart boy...blah blah…”   
“Who did it?” Gideon asked. “We may wanna speak with him.”  
“Uh...some guy named Jackson Abbott.” Arthur answered.   
“And is he a frequent visitor of that gay bar?” Hotch asked.   
“Yessir. I’m going to hack into the cams, just give me a few minutes.”

“Okay. Here it is.”   
Arthur shared his screens so Hotch and Gideon could see the video cams.   
The fuzzy grey figures appeared on the screen and started walking around. Hotch and Gideon pressed against each other to get a better look.   
Three figures appeared from the far left side of the room and walked up the bartender. The bartender set down the glasses he was wiping and looked like he was asking for something from the three men. They all dug into their pockets and pulled out some sort of small trinket. They showed them to the bartender and the bartender seemed satisfied. The three men proceeded to talk with the tender and looked like they were asking for information. The bartender answered quickly and the three men left.   
Gideon and Hotch watched as this performance repeated itself with small variations. Sometimes it was only one man, a few times it was a woman, but they all dug into their pockets, showcased a small object, and the bartender answered their questions.   
Meanwhile, Morgan and Collins stood grumbling outside the door. 

“What’s with you, today, man?” Collins asked, frustrated. Morgan and Collins were best friends in the FBI Academy and had a brother-like bond. But Collins could hardly resist the urge to punch him.  
“It’s just not right for a kid to be touched like that.” Morgan answered shortly. Collins turned to look at the dark skinned agent.   
“We’ve dealt with cases like this before…” Collins argued. “And you never reacted this way!”   
“I just never related to the unsub - hell, is Rowan even an unsub - as much.” Morgan continued.   
“Relate?”   
Morgan gave the fuck-I-said-too-much look. He heaved a sigh and looked at Collins.   
“What I’m going to tell you, remains between us.” Morgan instructed. The other agent nodded, looking serious. All frustration towards his friend had dropped.   
“My Pops died right in front of me when I was 10.” Morgan started. “He was shot.” Collins was silent before comforting him.   
“I’m really sorry, man. I didn’t know.”   
“It’s alright. Anyways, after that I had to, you know, be the man of the family. And I wanted to make myself feel older than I really was. So I ran with the gangs in Chicago, you know? Did errands for the older guys. I assume Rowan did the same thing.” Collins nodded.   
“There was this dude from the community center. Buford. Carl Buford. Everyone loved him. He was the town hero. He-” Morgan took a deep breath. “He m-molested me.”   
Collins’ face showed a flicker of surprise and disgust, but it was soon replaced with sympathy. He patted his friend on the back, with no words to say. Morgan pushed on.   
“I dunno if it’s what Rowan’s going through, but man, I just can’t help but feel we two are so similar.”   
“Yeah.” Collins said.   
“Don’t tell anyone. Not Hotch, not Arthur, not Gideon. They  
don’t need to know.” Morgan said, suddenly tensing up. It took a lot of courage just to admit it to Collins, it would be hell for him if the rest of the team knew.   
“Of course.” Collins assured him firmly. “My lips are sealed.”   
“Thanks man.”   
“Any time.”

“You two made up?” Gideon asked as Morgan and Collins stepped back inside the conference room. They nodded sheepishly.  
“Good. Morgan, you and I are going to that bar.” Hotch said, pointing to the screen that displayed the gay bar.   
“Okay.” Morgan nodded, relieved. He was getting very restless now and couldn’t wait to get out in the field.   
“Don’t you need one of those objects, though?” Gideon asked.   
Hotch hesitated, thinking hard. Then suddenly, he left the room. He came back very quickly, clutching a clear plastic evidence bag. In it, was Rowan’s wallet.   
Hotch pulled it out of the bag and dumped the wallet upside down. Out came a small pin.   
It was a thistle kilt pin. The shape was long and skinny, made of silver. At the very tip was a blue gem. It gleamed under the light. A crumpled piece of paper was taped to it. Collins eagerly reached for it and unfolded it.   
“Hope this can come in handy. Good luck, Aaron :) - RJ” Collins read aloud.   
“Strange. Like he’s helping us.” Morgan said.   
“Or he’s just playing with us.” Hotch replied. He took the thistle kilt pin and put it in his pocket. “Let’s go.” 

If Hotch prided himself in anything, it was that he could keep his cool. No matter the situation, he was always able to remain a level head and lead the team through the problem. Yes, he wasn’t the Unit Chief like Gideon, but both men knew Hotch was a natural leader. But this time, he was feeling an unfamiliar feeling. Fear.  
Why was Rowan helping them if he was working with the unsub? Where has Rowan run off to? Will the Director even let them carry on with the case? What if everyone in the bar finds out we’re with the FBI? When will we solve this case? And why was Rowan so fucking charming?   
He just couldn’t bring himself to hate him.   
Morgan and Hotch stepped out of the SUV and gave the nearby service truck a nod. Collins and Gideon were stationed inside the truck, catching on to every word of the conversation, and to step in if necessary.   
Hotch gave the thistle kilt pin a squeeze and stepped inside the bar.   
It was deserted, as it was daytime, but still some people lingered around. Hotch stepped forward, in front of Morgan. He was to say Morgan was his private assistant.   
“Can I help you?” The bartender asked as the two agents sat down. He looked like he was of East Asian descent. His hair was gelled up and his arms were heavily tattooed.   
Hotch showed him the thistle kilt pin. The bartender nodded and gave him an important look.   
“My name’s Kieran. What would you like to know?”   
“We want everything you know about Rowan Juress.” Kieran looked surprised at hearing his name.  
“4327? Most certainly.”   
“4327? What does that mean?” Morgan piped up. Hotch cringed slightly. If it were a code of some sort that everyone was supposed to know, Kieran would definitely be suspicious. Kieran just laughed.   
“Well, Rowan’s number, of course. Every one of Alexei’s boys has one.”  
Morgan was about to ask who Alexei was, but Hotch gave him a shut-up-now look and he decided against it.   
“Right.” He answered.   
“Exactly, we’re on Alexei’s orders.” Hotch made up. “He wants us to find out where Rowan’s gone to.”   
“Ah. Rowan stopped by here yesterday. To pick up a few things. I assume he’s going home.”   
“Home?” Morgan asked.   
“New York City. That’s where he’s from.”   
Great. Another big city to hunt a smart elusive young unsub. Just great.   
“So he’s a city boy.”   
“He comes here often?” Hotch asked.   
“Yeah, he sure does.”  
“Is he open about his sexuality? Being gay, I mean.” Morgan said.   
“He’s actually bisexual.” Kieran replied. “But I dunno, not really.”   
“What’s his relationship with...Alexei?” Morgan said.   
“Are you kidding?” Kieran smiled. Morgan tensed up. “He’s Alexei’s favorite.” The volume in his voice rose significantly. “Alexei paid like millions for him.”   
Before Hotch and Morgan could question his peculiar sentence, Kieran lowered his voice to a whisper.   
“The kid has it tough.” He said, sitting down and leaning towards them. “I’ve tried to get him out, but man, he’s stubborn. I can’t say I blame him.”   
“Human trafficking?” Morgan said, disgusted. Kieran nodded grimly.   
“Except Alexei’s is a thriving business.” He added.   
“Why doesn’t Rowan want to leave?” Hotch asked.  
“Holly and Mirella.” Kieran replied simply.  
“His sisters?” Morgan said, remembering from Rowan’s file.   
“Yeah. Shit, I don’t think anything’s going to stop him from protecting those girls.” Kieran answered.   
“If he leaves...Alexei hurts them?” Morgan whispered.   
“Kills them.” Kieran corrected. He loudly cleared his throat and stood up.   
“Well.” He said, his voice returning to normal volume. “Anything else?”   
“Jackson-” Morgan started.  
“Hey-hey-” Kieran interrupted him and gave him a glare. “Look, I’m brave enough for letting feds into my bar. Don’t go blurting out Abbott’s name like that!”  
“How did you-” Morgan started.   
“Jesus. The minute you asked what Rowan and Alexei’s relationship is like? You feds need to do your research. You guys are after him, aren’t ya?”  
“No. We’re not. We’re investigating two murders of important politicians. We know Rowan didn’t do it, but he knows who did.” Hotch answered.   
“Alexei.” Kieran answered simply.   
“What?”   
“Alexei. Those murders. It’s Alexei’s doing.” Kieran said.   
“Who’s Alexei?” Morgan said, unable to refrain himself. The second he uttered the name two men in the bar stood up. They strode over to Morgan and Hotch’s place and grabbed Morgan by his arms.   
“Hey! Let go of me!” He yelled.   
Hotch was about to draw his weapon but Kieran violently shook his head.   
“No!” He hissed. “You’ll just get killed!”   
Hotch and Kieran watched helplessly as Morgan was dragged away and out the back door of the bar. 

“Gideon!” Collins yelled, startled. The two agents were in the service truck and staring at the computer screen.  
“I know, I know. Drive.” Gideon said in a hurried manner. Collins raced to the driver’s seat and stepped on the gas. 

“Let me out, goddammit!” Morgan yelled as he was shoved into the trunk of a van, his hands and feet bound together.   
“Shut him up.” One of the men grumbled. The last thing Morgan saw was the swing of the crow bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello o7  
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. please feel free to comment how you thought :)


	6. Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Morgan is abducted, the team races to find and save him. Time is running out, and Rowan remains in the wind.

“Hey! Hey, Jesus, holy shit. Wake up!”  
“Wh-What?”  
Special Agent Derek Morgan opened his eyes. He felt extremely tired, and he looked down at his feet. They were bound together with a thick nylon rope. His hands were behind his back.  
“Took you long enough.” A girl who looked about 17 was standing in front of him, looking exasperated. She took out something in her pocket and flipped out a blade. Morgan tensed up.  
“Jesus, are you really a fed?” She laughed. “You’re so jumpy. Relax.” She held the blade close up to his ankles and cut the rope. She did the same to his hands and Morgan rubbed his wrists.  
“Thanks.” He said.  
“No need to thank me.” The girl said. She stood up and gave Morgan a disappointed look. Her shoulder length black hair was parted evenly and braided on the sides.  
“Mizuki Yoshikawa.” The girl said. Morgan could hear the slightest Japanese accent in her words.  
“Derek Morgan.” He replied.  
“Do you know the guys who dragged me here?” He asked. Mizuki nodded, with a grim expression etched on her face.  
“Alexei’s guys, right?”  
She nodded again. She put the blade back in her pocket and zipped up her black jacket. Morgan saw the numbers. 1198.  
“What are those numbers?” He blurted out. Mizuki’s brown eyes turned cold. She didn’t answer. That’s when Morgan remembered what Kieran had said, back at the gay bar.  
“That’s-that’s your...number.” Morgan said, slowly. Mizuki nodded a third time.  
Morgan paused before looking around. They were in a large grey colored room. It was completely barren, except for the single rickety chair that he was tied to. Mizuki was fiddling with something in her hands.  
“What are you-”  
“Shut up!” She hissed.  
“Excuse me?” Morgan asked.  
“Someone’s coming. Get back in the chair.”  
“How do you-”  
“Get the fuck back in the chair, you asshole.”  
Morgan sat, bewildered, as Mizuki tied the nylon ropes back around his ankles and hands.  
“I’ll be back.” She said, and turned to leave. “Or not.” She winked and slammed the door behind her.  
Boston PD  
December 30th  
1:00 am

“I understand, sir. Yes. Of course. Bye.” Gideon hung up and threw the phone onto the table. The team had driven around in the undercover service van and their SUVs all night, trying to locate Morgan. They found his phone smashed on the side of the road. Clearly they did not want to be tracked. 

“That was the Director. He says he wants us home.” Gideon announced,“As soon as we’ve found Morgan.” The Unit Chief added, looking at Collins’ angry face.  
“I take back what I said.” Collins blurted out.  
“What?” Hotch asked.  
“That we’re after the wrong guy. Rowan’s giving us hell a lot of trouble. He’s the guy. And I can’t wait,” He put emphasis on the word and slammed his fist down on the table. “to put some cuffs around his stupid wrists and throw that son of a bitch in a prison.” Collins stormed out of the room, aiming a good kick at a chair outside.  
“Let him relax a little bit.” Gideon advised, as Hotch stood up to go after him. The suited man sighed and sat back down. 

“It’s not like I can’t blame him.” Hotch replied. “I’m starting to hate Rowan too.”  
“But you can’t, can you?” Gideon asked. Hotch gave him a long don’t-profile-me-look-but-okay look.  
“You’re right. I can’t.”  
“Why not?”  
“He’s just-” Hotch sighed again. “He’s just a kid. He isn’t some  
middle aged serial killer who stabs women. He’s just some eighteen year old kid who...got messed up a little bit. We don’t even know-”  
“If he did the kills.” Gideon finished.  
“Exactly. And now he’s nearly 230 miles away in the biggest city  
in the US of A.” Hotch said.  
“Not quite.”  
Hotch and Gideon turned to the new voice.  
It was a slim and tall hooded figure. He wore black jeans and a dark red sweatshirt with the white letters MIT on the front. He had a chain around his waist and Hotch could see the revolver tucked into his belt.  
It didn’t take him and Gideon long to figure out who it was. But before they could draw their own weapons, they heard a gun click.  
“Rowan Juress, FBI. Put down the weapon.” Collins said from behind, his semi-automatic pointed directly at Rowan’s head. 

“How’s our little Special Agent Morgan doing?”  
Two large burly men strode into the room a few minutes after Mizuki left. They were both wearing army boots, cargo pants, and white T-shirts. The taller one had a buzz cut, the other had straw-colored hair.  
Morgan glared at them.  
The one with blonde hair cracked his knuckles.  
“We’ve got special orders from Alexei to bring you to him.” The taller one said. His voice was deep and raspy. “But not before we have a little fun with you.”  
The blonde one swug his arm in Morgan’s direction but he ducked. The assailant gave a grunt of frustration and swung again. This time he was lucky-the punch hit Morgan square in the jaw.  
Morgan exclaimed in pain as the two men laughed. The taller guy kicked the chair over, and Morgan’s head hit the hard cement floor.  
The blonde picked Morgan back up and leaned in. His breath smelled disgusting as he spat on Morgan.  
“I don’t know...I don’t see what Alexei would want with a n*gro like you.”  
Morgan yelled out and squirmed inside the chair.  
“You son of a bitch.” He grumbled.  
“He’s feisty.” The taller one said, his arms crossed. “Let’s get  
him out- AAGH!”  
Morgan watched as he screamed in agony and crumpled down the floor, as a pool of blood grew under near his chest. The blonde one rushed over to his partner and yelled.  
“Hey! Hanson! Hey, bro- AAG!”  
He too, slumped down near his friend. Morgan saw the two silver knives stuck in their backs. The two twitched in pain for a few seconds before four more knives came flying out, lodging themselves in their twitching bodies. They stopped.  
Morgan was out of breath. He looked around wildly, before seeing Mizuki walking towards him. She grinned.  
“Stupid idiots.” She kicked at the bodies to make sure they were dead. Morgan’s eyes were wide.  
“What?” Mizuki asked, taking the knives out and wiping off the blood.  
“You just-”  
“Killed them?” Mizuki gave a cold laugh. “Yeah, you can arrest me later. That is, if you get out of here alive. Good luck.” She gave him a wave and turned to leave.  
“Wait-!”  
She turned around.  
“Yeah, I thought so. You’ll need my help. Then see if you wanna  
arrest me.”  
Morgan sighed.  
“Fine.” He said. But he couldn’t help but feel unnerved at how cold and efficient Mizuki had killed those two guys. 

Boston PD

“Collins, what the hell are you doing?” Hotch asked, completely bewildered.  
“Put down the weapon, Juress.” The agent said, ignoring Hotch’s question. Something he never did.  
Rowan didn’t move. Collins pushed the gun further in on his head.  
“Collins, I’m ordering you to put the gun down!” Gideon yelled.  
“Where the hell is Morgan…” Collins said. It sounded like he was out of breath.  
“I know where he is.” Rowan started, calmly. “But-”  
“WHERE THE HELL IS HE?!” Collins exclaimed in frustration. Rowan laughed lightly. Hotch saw his blue eyes gleam.  
“I’m not going to tell you when you have a gun pointed at my head. But fine, I’ll drop the weapon.” He reached slowly back for his revolver and took it out of his belt. Collins, seeing this surrendering action, lowered his glock. Rowan dropped the revolver and kicked it over to Hotch. The older man bent over and picked it up.  
Collins took out handcuffs and cuffed Rowan, tightening it rather unnecessarily.  
“Out.” Gideon ordered Collins.  
“What?”  
“You’re off this case until you show you can be a responsible federal agent.” Gideon barked, pointing to the door.  
Collins didn’t move. Gideon and Hotch looked confused.  
“He’s been drugged.” Rowan explained. The two federal agents looked even more confused.  
Collins had on a blank expression. His pupils started to dilate and he clutched the nearby table or support. Hotch and Gideon watched in horror as he screamed and fell to the floor.  
“We need a medic!” Hotch exclaimed.  
Rowan looked down on the whole thing with a mild expression of interest and amusement.  
“Get him to an interview room.” Gideon instructed Detective Hernandez. 

“You’ve caused us one hell of a trouble, kid.” Detective Hernandez said coldly, chaining his cuffs to the rable.  
“Really?” Rowan asked, acting genuinely surprised.  
“Yeah. So don’t try anything stupid.” The detective replied, pinching the cuffs.  
“Ow.” Rowan said, smiling. Detective Hernandez, like everyone else, took a second to admire it.  
“Shame those good looks won’t do you good in prison.” He retorted. Rowan’s blue eyes turned to ice and glared at him.  
The detective was puzzled at this sudden change in demeanor but didn’t take much time to dwell on it. Besides, he wasn’t a profiler like those FBI agents. Let them deal with the behavior stuff.

“Gideon, I’m fine. I swear.” Agent Steven Collins grumbled to his boss as medics fussed around him, taking his blood pressure and shining lights near his eyes.  
“You just collapsed.” Gideon answered, looking worried.  
“So what?”  
“Do you remember how you got drugged?” Hotch asked.  
“N-no. I-I dunno, I was standing outside, just angry. You know?” His two superiors nodded.  
“And then, I think this guy comes up to me...um...black. He was black. And...that’s it. He like did something-”  
Collins' eyes widened in realization of the previous events.  
“God, did I just point a gun at- at an eighteen year old’s head-?”  
Hotch and Gideon’s silence didn’t bode too well with the young agent.  
“I’m mad at him, yes but- but not to that extent- you know that-” He stuttered over his words, shaking his head in denial. Hotch put a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
“We know.” He said. 

“God. I should- I should go and apologize.” Collins replied, standing to his feet. The medics ushered him to sit back down.  
“You’re not going anywhere until the doctors clear you.” Gideon said. Collins gave him a disappointed look but obeyed.  
“I’m going to go interview Rowan.” Hotch said and left the room. 

When he approached the interview room however, to his dismay, he saw that it was empty. He rushed inside to see the unlocked cuffs, and a small crumpled note on the table.

Aaron,  
Hey! Nice seeing you again :) As for your lost Agent Derek Morgan, I’m pretty sure you can find him at 193 Red Star Avenue. Hopefully my friend Mizuki made sure he wasn’t hurt too bad <3  
Tell Agent Steven Collins I know he didn’t mean to do that. It’s ok.  
Catch me if you can :D

~RJ

Hotch gave a sigh of frustration but couldn’t help but smile. This note was clearly written by a kid. The Federal Bureau of Investigations, the prominent BAU, running in circles trying to catch a kid.  
He silently wished this mysterious Mizuki had done a good job at protecting Morgan. He folded the note, put it in his pocket, and left the room. 

Detective Hernandez was anything but happy to learn that Rowan had escaped their clutches once again.  
“Next time we see that bastard, I’m going to give my officers the order to shoot on sight!” He grumbled.  
“Detective, that’s not a good idea.” Gideon replied calmly, giving Hotch a warning look. The suited man looked extremely angry.  
“He’s escaped too many times!” The detective argued. Before Gideon could answer, Detective Hernandez turned his heel and left. 

Hotch showed Gideon the note left by Rowan and Gideon laughed.  
“Oh, this kid.” The unit chief said, smiling. “We’re gonna have a tough time with him.”  
“We sure are.” Hotch agreed, and put the note back in his pocket.  
“Where the hell are we goin’?” Morgan asked, as Mizuki dragged him by his shirt sleeve, guiding him through endless winding hallways. She had surprising strength for someone her age.  
“Never you mind.” She answered curtly. Ever so often, she took out a few blades and flung them sideways. Morgan always heard a faint grunt of pain and a crash. She never missed a target.  
“I’ve lost count of how many men you’ve killed just in the past 5 minutes.” Morgan said, as they ran past three dead men, slumped together. He hoped to talk some sense into her and stop her madness. This efficient killing was unnerving for him.  
“Then don’t count, asshole.” She replied, still running and dragging him along as she went.  
“You don’t think this is wrong?!” Morgan shouted. This girl was insane.  
Mizuki stopped abruptly. So abruptly, in fact, that Morgan almost fell over in surprise. She pushed Morgan up against a wall and he winced (again, surprisingly strong).  
“Listen. These guys, everyone that I’ve killed so far, is for you.” She hissed, her brown eyes were cold again. Morgan didn’t answer.  
She pointed at the three men they had just passed.  
“Isaac Scott. Pedophile.” She said, referring to the biggest of all three. Morgan stared at her as she continued. “Gregory Heachum. Rapist.” She pointed to the middle man, who was slightly overweight and had on a red tie. She pointed to the last one.  
“Hugh Johnson. Rowan may thank me later. He raped Rowan on multiple ocassions. And others.” As if an afterthought, she added, “Including me.”  
“I-I’m sorry, I-” Morgan stammered, completely bewildered. Mizuki lay up an impatient hand to silence him.  
“It’s fine. I probably would have killed them later anyways.” She gave Morgan a long look.  
“I don’t want to kill. It’s wrong. But these guys are trying to do the same. Can’t let that happen, can we?”  
Morgan couldn’t do anything but give her a small nod. She looked satisfied, and resumed dragging him along the halls, running at breakneck speed.  
“Rowan’s going to turn himself in.” She said casually.  
“What?”  
“You heard me. He’s going to turn himself in. Then he’s going to escape and give whoever Aaron is, a note.”  
“Wh-Why are you telling me this?”  
“Because it already happened, dumbass. Rowan’s long gone by now. Anyways, whoever Aaron is. He’s going to know where I’m taking you.”  
“And where’s that?”  
“193 Red Star Avenue.” Mizuki said. 

“If this Alexei guy is causing you all so much trouble, why not just leave?” Morgan asked, as they kept running.

“Because-”  
Her sentence was caught short. She fell on the floor. Morgan yelled out and shook her body.  
“Mizuki! Mizuki? Come on, come on, don’t!”  
Morgan flipped her body over. She was crying. Small tears flowed down on her face as she looked down. Morgan did too, with a jolt of horror. A long, slim black knife was etched into her chest.  
“It’s okay. It-It’s okay.” For the first time ever, Morgan heard her voice waver in uncertainty.  
“I-I’ll be okay.”  
“Of course you will.” Morgan said soothingly.  
“You might want to run.” She advised darkly.  
“I’m not leaving you.” Morgan said firmly.  
“Why? We only just met.”  
“You helped me. You saved me. And now I’m going to help you too. I’m getting us out of here.”  
Mizuki reached down to remove the knife, but Morgan stopped her.  
“No, if you remove it you may bleed out. Best leave it where it is.” He said.  
“You’re the boss.” She said, lowering her hand.  
“Where to?” He asked as he put her into his arms. For a second she looked as revolted, but surrendered and let the dark skinned agent carry her.  
“Just ahead. You’ll see double doors. They’re unlocked.” She instructed. She sounded out of breath.  
“Okay. Just hang in there.” Morgan replied, and followed her directions.  
He pushed open the double doors and stepped out into the sunlight. The biggest weight was taken off of his heart seeing the black SUV pull up and watching Hotch and Gideon hurrying forward. They were safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you all know, I DO NOT CONDONE OR AGREE WITH THE USE OF CALLING SOMEONE THE N-WORD. I used it in my story only for the antagonists' purposes!!


	7. Our Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan and Mizuki bond in the hospital and the team heads back to the BAU, unsatisfied with the outcome of the case. They return home to see an unpleasant surprise.

December 30th  
5:00 pm

Special Agent Derek Morgan sat impatiently in the hospital lobby, his leg unconciously bobbing up and down. He closed his eyes and leaned back. The last few hours had been unbelievingly cruel for him.  
Hotch had given him permission to go home and get some rest, but he insisted on staying and waiting for Mizuki to get out of surgery. The doctors had told the team that, on top of the knife, she had other underlying injuries as well.  
She had been so strong, so resilient, that Morgan hadn’t even noticed all the cuts and bruises she had.  
The doctor said she didn’t have a good chance of surviving. 

“Still here?”  
Morgan looked up. It was Collins. The young man smiled weakly and sat down next to him.  
“You okay?” He asked. Morgan nodded.  
“Is she still in surgery?” Another nod.  
“Glad you’re both safe.” Collins said. “I was so worried, man.” Morgan turned to his friend. His dark brown hair was a mess, and his green eyes looked tired. But on his face was the most relieved expression Morgan had ever seen.  
“Hotch told me you were drugged?” Morgan said, only just then remembering the long talk he had with his supervisor.  
“Yeah, but it’s fine. I’m okay now.” Collins answered. “I promise!” He added, seeing Morgan’s unbelieving face. 

“Gideon wants me to tell you we’re going home.” Collins blurted out after a few minutes of silence.  
“What? What about Rowan? And-and this-” He mouthed the word “Alexei.” He was in no hurry to get kidnapped again by saying the dangerous name.  
“The Director wants us off the case. Says we’re not making any headway.” His friend reasoned. “To be fair, I’m more than ready to go home.”  
Morgan couldn’t help but agree.  
“But more politicians could get killed if we don’t solve the case!” He pursued.  
“I know, but leave that up to another department, eh? We don’t have to be the heroes every time, Derek.”  
Morgan sighed. “Fine. Just let me make sure Mizuki is okay. Then we can go.”  
“Sure, man.” Collins clapped a comforting hand on his friend’s back. “Hey, have you heard from Brooks recently?” He asked.  
“Nope.” Morgan answered. “Why?”  
“Well, you know how he is. He usually calls in to check up on us every few hours. Especially with what happened...Hotch tried calling him but he didn’t pick up.”  
“Hm. I’ll try calling him.” Morgan took out his phone and dialed the tech analyst’s number.  
“Hey, it’s Arthur Brooks. Please leave a message.” The phone beeped.  
“Damn.” Collins said. “I’ll go tell Gideon. Hope Mizuki gets out soon.” He smiled comfortingly and left the lobby.  
“Agent? Mizuki Yoshikawa is ready to see you.”  
Morgan jumped to his feet and eagerly followed the surgeon down the halls and stopped in front of a room.  
“Here. She’s a bit drowsy because of the pain medication, but she should make a full recovery.” The surgeon said happily. He seemed satisfied with the surgery.  
“I can’t thank you enough, man.” Morgan replied. The surgeon smiled in response and left the two to be alone.  
“Hey.” Morgan said softly, pulling up a chair and sitting down.  
“Oh, you’re still here.” Mizuki said. She was smiling.  
“Of course I am.”  
“You waited?”  
“Mhm.”  
“Thanks.” She blinked slowly and looked straight at him.  
“No need to thank me. You saved my life. I should be the one thanking you.”  
“No, you might as well have saved me. I get to be free for a few weeks.” She said. Morgan knew she was referring to Alexei’s place.  
“I can get you out for good.” He said firmly.  
“How, adopt me?” She asked sarcastically.  
“If it has to be that, then I’ll do it!” Morgan exclaimed.  
“Jeez. I was just kidding.”  
“We need to get you out, Mizuki.” Morgan said seriously. “Do you have any family that Alexei is threatening to kill?”  
“No. Not anymore.” She answered. At Morgan’s confused expression, she continued. “I came to the United States with my father and my brother. My brother got sick so I was looking around for a job to pay for his medicine. And then, well, I got stuck in this mess. But I made sure that they were safe. I faked their deaths so Alexei wouldn't target them.”  
, Morgan wanted to say something like “I’m so sorry.” but thought Mizuki probably wouldn’t appreciate the sympathetic gesture.  
“And Rowan..?” He asked. This was a sly trick on his part. Although the Director was ordering them back home, Morgan had no interest whatsoever in dropping the case. He needed to learn everything about Rowan.  
“I dunno, he’s pretty quiet.” She said, thinking hard. “Oh, but he’s a complete nerd.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean, he doensn’t look it but he can ramble about random things and their history non stop if you ask him to. It’s quite annoying.”  
“I know those types of people. Hate them.” Morgan said, chuckling slightly. This made Mizuki smile again.  
“Yeah. But, he’s great. You should see him with his sisters. Holly and Mirella.”  
“What about them?”  
“He’s really good to them. Mirella’s only 10. I think I have a photo.” She grabbed her jacket on the side of the bed and pulled out a phone. She quickly typed the passcode and swiped to the photo app.  
“Here.”  
Morgan couldn’t help but smile. There was Rowan, brown haired, a beaming and perfect smile. Next to him was a girl more around Mizuki's age. She too had brown hair, but she had dyed the ends to a cool ombre color. She had teal and silver banded braces, and her face showed nothing but delight. Morgan assumed this was Holly. Cuddled in between Holly and Rowan, was a little girl who’s hair was lighter than both her siblings. She had two cute little french braids and one of her front teeth was missing.  
The background behind them showed a wide and busy street with towering skyscrapers. The afternoon sun was behind them, illuminating their faces. If Morgan hadn’t known Rowan’s story, he’d have guessed this was a happy, innocent, and completely normal sibling trio.  
“It’s beautiful.” Morgan said at last. Mizuki nodded in agreement.  
“Holly’s my best friend. She was super nice to me when we first met.”  
Morgan took his time before answering.  
“You want me to get her out, don’t you?”  
Mizuki’s eyes held a sad look.  
“Of course I do. If it were up to me, I’d want to get every single poor kid out of that-that hell.”  
Morgan nodded. “I know. Me too. It’s just, I’m only a Special Agent, I don’t have much power over the higher-ups. I can ask my boss. Agent Gideon. He’s widely respected.”  
“That’d be nice, thank you.” Mizuki sighed and showed another picture on her phone.  
“This is my brother, father, and me a few years ago. They’re both in California at the moment.”  
A bespectacled Asian man appeared on the screen. He was skinny and his jet black hair was cut short. He was wearing a light blue collared shirt, with his arm around two young children. The taller one was Mizuki.  
Wow. She’s changed a lot. Morgan thought to himself. The Mizuki in this photo had waist length black hair, and she was chubby, almost. She had blue overalls and wore a huge grin on her face. Her brother, seated right next to her, was small and thin. He had on a weak smile and round, kind eyes.  
“They look like really nice people.” Morgan said. “Who’s that? Your mom?”  
Standing next to Mizuki’s dad was an elegant woman dressed in a pink dress. Her hair was tied up in a bun and on her ears were bright red earrings.  
“Yeah. She passed away when I was 8.” Mizuki said.  
“I’m sorry.” Morgan replied.  
“It’s okay, it was a long time ago.” 

The two sat quietly in the hospital room, showing each other pictures of their loved ones. Mizuki asked desperately for Morgan’s childhood in Chicago. As he was retelling the family’s Christmas tradition, he contemplated whether or not to tell her about Carl Buford. Or even, his father. He decided against it. There was no need after all…

“Hey, bro, time to leave.” Collins poked his head inside the hospital room.  
Morgan gave a heesitant look towards Mizuki.  
“Go, you dumbass. You’ve stayed here for like 6 hours. You got me sushi. You waited who knows how long for my surgery to be over. You’ve done enough.” She smiled.  
Morgan returned the gesture. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a pen, and wrote down his number.  
“Call me if you need anything. Don’t be afraid to ask.” He said. Mizuki nodded. He gave her hand a tight squeeze and reluctantly said goodbye. 

On the jet

“Arthur still isn’t answering his cell.” Hotch said, with a grumble of frustration.  
“Granted, it is almost midnight.” Collins reasoned from the  
other side of the jet.  
“True.” Hotch said, still reluctant, but put his phone back in his pocket. “I’m still checking his office when we land, though.” 

Quantico, VA  
BAU

“Definitely not satisfied.” Collins said, sighing, and setting his go-bag down on his chair.  
“Mhm.” Morgan agreed, and slumped down on his office chair and spun it around slowly.  
“Don’t worry, Morgan. Rowan will pop up again soon, and we’ll have him.”  
Morgan didn’t answer.  
“What?”  
“When I was talking with Mizuki, she showed me a photo. Rowan. With his two sisters.”  
“Holly and Mirella, right?” Collins asked. Morgan nodded.  
“They took a selfie in the city. They looked so innocent. So happy.”  
Collins blinked.  
“You think he didn’t kill those people.”  
“Yeah, I mean…”  
“I dunno, man. It’s late, we’re all tired. Let’s just worry about this case tomorrow.”  
“I second that.” Morgan said, laughing lightly. “How’s Keira gonna be when you get home?” He said, referring to Collins’ wife.  
“Mad as hell that I missed Christmas and New Years.” His friend responded, groaning. “Man, and she was so excited for a family photo with Elijah.”  
“Good luck. You’re gonna need it.” Morgan replied.  
The two young agents laughed together in the dark bullpen. A loud shout made them both jump.  
“Who else is here?” Morgan whispered.  
“No one. Just me, you, Gideon, and Hotch.” Collins whispered back.  
Gideon came bolting out of his office and ran down the steps of the landing.  
“GET OVER HERE NOW!” Hotch's voice rang out. Morgan and Collins exchanged bewildered looks and ran after their Unit Chief. 

“What is it, Hotch?” Morgan asked loudly, as the three agents burst into Arthur Brooks’ office.  
“No.” Collins gasped, and turned away.  
“How-” Morgan’s eyes widened. 

2:00 am

“I’m so sorry, Candace. If there’s anything we can do…” Hotch  
said sympathetically to a crying woman. She nodded silently. Standing near her were two young children, a boy and a girl. They too looked somber. 

Morgan and Collins stood apart from everyone else, surveying the scene. Cops and FBI agents were everywhere, sirens were flashing blue and red across everyone’s faces.  
“I should have known.” Collins blurted out, arms crossed.  
“Man, don’t beat yourself up. None of us could have predicted this.”  
If Morgan thought this would comfort his friend, he was wrong.  
“How can you say that?! We’re profilers, for god’s sake! We study behavior! We should know when something isn’t right! Especially when one of our coworkers and close friends isn’t responding to calls! I should have picked up on this! You, Gideon, and Hotch should have!”  
Collins stopped abruptly, just realizing what he had said.  
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” He muttered. Morgan placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
“It’s okay.”  
“I’m gonna go check around his office.” Collins said suddenly, and turned to go back inside. Morgan cast Candace a furtive look and hurried after his friend. 

The two agents stepped quietly into the dark office, surrounded by the screens mounted on the desks and walls. The blue FBI menu logo was illuminated on all of them.  
“Hey, Morgan!” Collins had bent down and seized a folded piece of paper.  
“What does it say?” Morgan said eagerly.  
“Oh fuck.” 

FBI Agents,  
I’d appreciate it greatly if you stopped poking your heads in things that do not concern you. I’ll deal with Rowan. If you continue to pursue him, think about your dear friend Arthur Brooks. This was your fault. Because of your actions, Mr. Brooks’ children are fatherless. And Agent Morgan, Mizuki is fine just as she is without your help, thank you. 

Sincerely,  
A.

“Damn.”  
After a few seconds of silence, Collins stuffed the note in his pocket. “Let’s get this to Hotch and Gideon.” He said, and shuffled out of the room.  
Morgan gave the small cramped office one last look, and turned off the computers. They dimmed simultaneously and the office turned dark. THe dark skinned agent sighed and closed the door behind him, following Collins outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy I'm really appreciative for the support (almost 200 hits on my first work owo) so I decided to give you guys the update a bit sooner! Hope you like it :) Please comment to tell me how I did.


	8. How Does France Sound?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team races to save Mizuki after an eerie phone call, only to get an unexpected surprise.

The blood flowed thickly through his hands. The red river streamed across the floor and stained his white converse shoes.   
“No, no, please, don’t go!”   
He tore off his jacket and began pressing it onto the other one’s body.   
“Rowan, he’s gone.” A teenage girl stood at the alleyway’s entrance. She too had bloody hands and her skirt had been smeared red. She was clutching a small young girl who looked nothing but terrified. Her eyes were swimming with tears.   
“Let’s go.” The teenage girl said at last.   
“I can’t just-just leave him like this. Alexei and his men will probably just use his body and-”  
“Rowan, we have to leave! You heard what Jackson said. We have to get out of here and warn Mizuki!”

The three men stood sadly amongst the sea of black. Everyone’s face had a look of sorrow. An elderly couple were crying into lacy handkerchiefs, children were sobbing.   
Aaron Hotchner, looking as stoic as ever, wearing a brand new black suit. His fiancee Haley stood beside him, clutching his arm.   
Derek Morgan, dark skinned, stood right of Aaron. His expression mimicked his superior’s. His hands were crossed in front of him.   
Steven Collins had failed the stoic and peaceful expression his coworkers displayed. Tears glistened around his eyes and his body shook. 

The three agents couldn’t help but notice their Unit Chief’s   
absence. Agent Jason Gideon had failed to show up the entire duration of the funeral. The black glossy coffin was brought out, an American flag draped over it. A miserable woman wearing a velvet black hat stood at the front, leading two young children.   
“Where the hell is Gideon?” Morgan asked, frustrated.   
“I don’t know. Guess he couldn’t bear to show up.” Collins replied.   
Suddenly, Morgan’s phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number and instinctively pressed the hang up button. Not a few seconds later, the caller returned. Morgan gave Hotch and Collins a look, gesturing towards his phone, and walked away from the somber circle.   
“Who is this?” He asked.   
“DEREK! HELP ME-! DEREK-”   
Beep.

“Take Mirella and get out of here!” The young boy yelled, pressing his back against the wall. Bullets crashed and whizzed by their necks, barely missing them.   
“What about Mizuki?!” The girl yelled back. Her hands were covering the ears of the small child between them.   
“I’ll rescue her, and we can get the hell out of this place!” He said. The young girl started crying.  
“Aw, Mirella, don’t cry. Everything will be alright. Brother’s gonna save Mizuki, okay?”   
Mirella sniffed and nodded feebly. Her braids had come undone and her hair now hung in beautiful curls. The teenage girl smiled at the small achievement of calming Mirella down, but her victory was cut short.   
“Ungh!” The boy grimaced as one of the bullets grazed his arm, leaving a deep gash.   
“Rowan!” The girl yelled, rushing forward.   
“I’ll be fine, Holly. Just take Mirella and go home. Please.” Rowan replied. He ripped off part of his shirt sleeve and tied it above the wound. It gradually stained red.   
“Okay.” Holly said, looking extremely worried. “Be careful!”   
Rowan smiled and winked. “You know me. Always careful.”   
He made sure Mirella and Holly were out of sight before he ran out from behind the wall, firing his revolver. The front line of about seven men dropped dead, bullet wounds on their forheads. Most of their accomplices took one look at their bodies and ran. The remaining man stood frozen, staring defiantly at Rowan.   
Rowan spinned his revolver once, then twice, and punched the man. He let out a scream of agony.   
“Mmm!” A muffled scream came from across the room. It was Mizuki, bound and gagged. Rowan kicked the man again in the crotch to keep him down and he rushed over to untie Mizuki.   
“Thanks.” She said. “I could have taken them down, thye just took my knives.”   
Rowan nodded in acknowledgement and believing, knowing full well it really would have taken her ten minutes tops to get rid of all the men.   
“Let’s get this son of a btich to talk.” Rowan said, walking back over to the man who was balled up in pain.   
“Who sent you? Jackson? Alexei?” Rowan asked harshly.   
“I-I won’t tell you-AAAGH!!”  
This time it was Mizuki who kicked him in the crotch. Rowan looked impressed and handed her a pocket knife. The man looked most definitely scared now, seeing the girl spinning the blade in her hands.   
“Al-Alright! It was Jackson, okay? We’re freelancers. He paid us! He just said to get the Japanese bitch and we’d be on our way!”  
“That’s what he called me, huh? Japanese bitch?”   
“What he said! Said to not underestimate you! I didn’t call you a Japanese b-”  
“Oh, shut up.” Mizuki replied, pointing the knife threateningly.   
“You think he’ll blab?” Rowan asked.   
“Most definitely.”  
Rowan nodded and pointed his revolver at the man.  
BANG. 

“Derek will come looking for me.” Mizuki said suddenly.   
“Who’s that, your boyfriend?” Rowan teased.   
“No. I’m lesbian.” Rowan looked surprised for a second before smiling.   
“Nice.”   
“Anyways, Derek is this FBI agent. I had his number, I panicked, so I-”  
“You called an FBI agent? Are you out of your mind?!” Rowan exclaimed.   
“Dammit, the feds will be on to us.”   
“But if we leave a note that I’m with you…”   
“What do you mean?”   
“The feds think I’m good. Derek got kidnapped by Alexei’s men and I saved him. So technically in their books, I’m good.”   
“That won’t help, what if they think I kidnapped you in return?”  
“Let me write a note and say that I’m with you willingly.”   
“Doubt that’ll work, but okay.” He smiled and took out a crumpled piece of paper and pen. 

Hey Derek, I’m sorry if I scared you with that phone call. Some guys with guns were walking towards me so I panicked. Anyways, Rowan showed up and saved me. He says sorry for causing a mess. Anyways, I’m on the run with Rowan now. Don’t worry, he hasn’t kidnapped me or anything.   
Mizuki ❤

“Hm.” Mizuki read over the note and put it on the dead man’s body. “Let’s go.” She said. 

“What the hell happened here?” Morgan, Collins, and Hotch skid to a halt in the hospital lobby. Broken glass, vases, overturned tables, cracks in the walls, bodies, and blood littered the entire place.   
“Here’s a note.” Hotch replied, crouching down to the dead guy slumped against a wall.   
“Damn.” Collins said. “Rowan killed all these guys?”   
“No, not all of them.” Hotch corrected him. “The civilians were killed by these guys.” He gestured towards the men with guns by their hands.   
Collins scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes. “Honestly, why didn’t Rowan just come to us when was 13 or whenever he met this Alexei guy? It would have made all of our lives easier.”   
“You wouldn’t understand.” Morgan replied harshly.   
“Oh, really? Try me.” Collins said.   
“Guys-” Hotch straightened up.  
“He was being raped and sexually assaulted!” Morgan exclaimed, advancing on Collins. “You have no idea of the fear he was feeling during those times!”   
“You’re right, I don’t.” Collins hissed back. “But it isn’t an excuse to kill a bunch of people.”   
“I never-”  
“Enough!” Hotch yelled. “We’re not the lawyers here.” He said sternly. He sighed. “We need to deliver the profile of the real killer to Boston and NY police. Morgan, you go get Gideon to fly up to New York.  
Collins noticed in the specific separation of him and his fellow agent and frowned, preparing himself for a lecture. 

Hotch and Collins pulled in on the road beside the Boston Police Station. Before stepping out the vehicle, Hotch pulled Collins back.   
“What was that, huh? With Morgan?” He asked. Collins sighed and leaned back in his seat.   
“Being raped isn’t an excuse for becoming a serial killer.” He argued. “Lots of our previous unsubs got raped or assaulted in some way. It didn’t defend their actions!”   
“What you’re saying has truth.” Hotch said kindly. “But do we really think Rowan is responsible for the murders of Wilson and Felowski?”   
“That doesn’t matter!” Collins exploded. “He just killed like 8 people back at the hospital!”   
“They were returning fire, CSI confirmed it. They were trying to kidnap Mizuki.” Hotch countered.   
“Of course, you’re taking Morgan’s side.” Collins said harshly.   
“There are no sides here, Steven!” Hotch said loudly. “We’re all on the same side. You’re right, Rowan is not innocent. That’s why we’re delivering the profile. He’s getting arrested, no matter what.”   
“And his sentence will be what, 2 years?” Collins replied.   
“We hardly have influence over any unsub’s sentencing. Even the psychopathic cannibals.” Hotch said.   
“What, so Rowan’s not a psychopath?” Collins questioned.   
“Well, when I talked to him, I-”  
“When he was tricking you and slipped right under your nose, you mean.”   
Hotch chose to ignore this.   
“He didn’t showcase psychopathic tendencies.” Hotch continued. “Nor when Gideon interviewed him in the hospital.”   
“He did emotional manipulation in that room, I saw it!” Collins insisted. “And then what does he do? He runs away!”   
Hotch closed his eyes and sighed. “If you’re so insistent on catching Rowan, then let’s go in and deliver the profile. The unsub will lead us to Rowan.”

“Where are we going?” Mizuki asked, as Rowan pulled her down the metro steps.   
“New York.” He said shortly.   
“Don’t you think Alexei will know that’s where you’re goin?” She exclaimed as they approached the metal bars.   
“Then we’ll deal with him there.”   
“Alright.”   
The two jumped onto the metro and Rowan pushed Mizuki into a chair.   
“What’s up with you?” She asked, bewildered. He was breathing heavily onto her neck.   
“Are you high?” She asked. He ignored this.   
“How does...escaping to France sound…?”   
“Wh-what? France?”   
“Yeah.” Rowan grinned. “Out of the country. Or-or maybe China.”  
“You’re definitely high right now.” she said, pushing him away.   
“I’m serious.” Rowan persisted. “We need to get out, especially with the fucking feds on our trail.”   
“They’re not all bad.” Mizuki replied, thinking of Morgan. “But France sounds nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry for the late update! And sorry it's shorter than usual, I'm kind of losing motivation ^^; hope you like it :)


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